Film Review: Pumping Iron
By Matt Stroup
11/17/03
The first I ever heard of Pumping Iron, a 1977 documentary on bodybuilding, was when I read Sports Illustrated's list of the "50 Greatest Sports Movies of All Time." My initial reaction, I will admit, was one of skepticism, mostly because I am one of those people who doesn't really think of bodybuilding as a sport, but more of an impressive show of discipline and a high tolerance for anabolic steroids. However, upon seeing the brief review of this movie and noting that it starred not only Arnold Schwarzenegger but also Lou Ferrigno of "Incredible Hulk" fame, my interest was piqued, to say the least.
Sports Illustrated's list, mind you, first came out in early August, before the idea of Arnold becoming the "Governator" was a realistic possibility. As that horrific notion came closer and closer to becoming a reality, I knew that I had to see Pumping Iron.
The trouble was, I couldn't find it. While hordes of old Schwarzenegger titles were popping up on store shelves in recognition of his shocking political ascendance, Pumping Iron was nowhere to be found. I called virtually every video store in Manhattan, and not only did they know exactly what movie I was talking about (suggesting that I wasn't the only person looking for it), but most of them informed me that it was out of print and expected to be released in November. Furthermore, the stores that normally did carry an old beat-up copy of the VHS tape did not have it in stock. Seems that everyone in the New York area wanted to see Arnold at his most goofy, if it's possible to even classify that.
Finally, about a week ago, I broke through, managing to rent a copy of Pumping Iron at a video store about 20 blocks from my house. The tape itself was an amazing relic -- clutching the weathered tape, I felt like Robert Langdon wielding the cryptex in The Da Vinci Code: I was terrified of destroying it, as if the fate of some lost civilization rested in my hands.
Since I first read about Pumping Iron in the pages of Sports Illustrated, more has changed than I could possibly have imagined. Most notably, Arnold Schwarzenegger is governor of the state of California.
Now, as Arnold Schwarzenegger prepares to take the reins of California, with a fancy 25th Anniversary Edition of Pumping Iron having been released in stores, I have witnessed the train wreck that is Pumping Iron, and to a greater extent, our nation as we know it. The movie, at least, was everything I hoped it would be.
Mr. Olympia Himself
On the surface, Pumping Iron is a story about several freakishly large men pursuing bodybuilding's crown: the title of Mr. Olympia. More than the plot, what makes this movie interesting is the cast of characters. Ultimately, it's Arnold's film, but the other characters prove to be equally interesting and at times even startlingly vulnerable despite their machine-like appearances. It's Arnold's film, though, so we'll start with him.
The first thing that immediately blew me away about Arnold is that his command of the English language in 1975 was just as good, if not better, than it is today. Strange that 35 years in a country speaking the language would change very little in that regard.
Beyond that superficial realization, this documentary is actually a very interesting insight into Arnold's character. Not to say that I don't feel like I already know the man to an extent from having watched his films since age 10, but there's a lot more you can learn about someone from a documentary than you can from seeing him throw daggers through people's necks.
What I did learn about Arnold from watching this movie is that, though a complete buffoon, he's actually a pretty engaging and charismatic character, or at least he was in 1975. In the world of bodybuilding, he is a commanding presence; one of those people who walks into the room and immediately has everyone's attention without saying a word. This is pretty astonishing, considering not only that this was before Arnold was a movie star but also that, to the casual eye, pretty much all 240-pound musclemen look exactly the same. As silly as I feel saying it, it is Arnold's charisma that attracts people's attention.
As a viewer of the movie, it's the same way, and once he's got your attention, he makes sure not to disappoint. Consider some of these quotes, and you'll probably know all you need to know about Arnold circa 1975:
--Early on in the film, when attempting to explain how bodybuilding is pretty normal despite the fact that some people don't understand it, he says, "I mean, it's not any stranger as going into a car and trying to go in a quarter mile, five seconds. I mean, that's, for me, strange." Pardon? (This is just the beginning).
--On the subject of a fellow bodybuilder (Franco Colombu) who looks up to him, speaking in total cocksure confidence, Arnold says: "He comes to me for advices. So, it's not that hard for me to give him..." he pauses here, his eyes lighting up diabolically, "the wrong advices."
--On how he has to stay focused and detached in order to succeed in bodybuilding competitions: "If somebody steals my car outside of my door right now, I don't care. You know, I can't be bothered with that. The only thing I would do is have my secretary call the insurance agency and then laugh about it."
--To top it all off, out of context and completely out of the blue, he drops this line: "I was always dreaming about very powerful people. Dictators and things like that."
Yeah, dictators and what not. I think I'll be moving on now...
The Gentle Giant
Wilt Chamberlain once said, "Nobody roots for Goliath," and in a sense, he was right. By nature, I think it's hard to think of gigantic monsters of human beings as being capable of having complex feelings and emotions. However, by far the most sympathetic character in Pumping Iron's world of Herculean beasts is Mike Katz. Katz, the narrator tells us, is "31 years old, six feet one, 240 pounds. One of the top amateur bodybuilders in the world." The narrator also notes, behind a backdrop of cheesy xylophone music and a shot of a suburban house, that "Mike lives in North Branford, Connecticut, and is a junior high school teacher."
What's not stated here, but is clear right away if you see the movie, is that Mike Katz is frighteningly gruesome looking. He looks like Hulk Hogan cross-bred with the character of Sloth from The Goonies, with a haircut that was probably last in fashion in the middle ages. You hate to accuse people you don't even know of being on steroids (okay, actually, I love it), but this guy's cranium is absolutely pulsating. I suspect foul play.
What makes Mike Katz a sad character is not so much that he looks like a confused giant (though that contributes to it), but more the simple fact that he's kind of a meager bastard. Within just a few moments of his appearance in the film, he's recalling the ridicule he suffered as a young boy in stark detail, reliving his haunted childhood with a vividness that suggests his old wounds are not far below the surface. "I can remember back in my life, when I would be picked on quite often," explains Katz. "I'm sure every kid's gone through it. But it just affected me more than, I think, it would affect other people." He pauses for a moment, and goes on to recite the specific insults that were apparently hurled at him all throughout his younger years:
"Hey, four eyes, hey, cross-eyes."
"Hey, you got rusty fenders on your bicycle."
"Your bike isn't as good as our bike."
Rusty fenders? Ouch, that's pretty brutal. In all fairness to Mike Katz, he goes on to describe some pretty vicious insults that I'm not going to stoop to repeat here. This is, after all, a family website.
The significance of these insults is that it seems that they are what ultimately led Katz to bodybuilding: "I can remember times when kids would be going to dances, and I would leave a dance, like 11:00 at night. I'd just leave a dance for no reason and say, 'I'll show them.' You know, and go and run on a track for two or three hours. Or go home and lift weights."
Hey, Mike. You going to Phil's party after the dance?
Nah, I think I'll go run around a track for two or three hours.
Cool. I'll check you later then.
Katz's final scene in the film takes place at the Mr. Universe competition, less important than Mr. Olympia, but still nothing to scoff at. Katz performs admirably (actually, I don't have the foggiest clue what "performing admirably" would mean in one of these contests; all of the flexing and posing looks the same to me -- I just felt too bad to say he was crappy), but ends up losing to another bodybuilder by the name of Ken Waller. When Waller is announced as the winner, Katz is already sitting backstage. Upon finding out that Waller won, he unleashes a horribly awkward stream of consciousness: "Kenny won. Great. Terrific. How about that? Boy, that's fantastic. Fantastic. I can imagine how he must feel. Incredible. Probably like I did when I was 16 and I won my first trophy. In its own way, it's probably just as satisfying. I gotta go shake his hand, that's fantastic, great."
What's sad about this is that Mike Katz doesn't come across as being even slightly bitter towards Waller, but his pain and anguish at having lost is nonetheless seeping out of his pores. It is truly a tragic moment. I honestly found myself feeling deeply sorry for the man, despite the fact that he would probably have no qualms about eating me if given the opportunity.
'A Festivus for the Rest of Us'
We've officially reached the portion of the film review where we really won't be "reviewing" anything at all. What I may have failed to explain is that, for the most part, Pumping Iron is about as thematically complex as an episode of "Inspector Gadget." There is a plot, and I'll get to that in due time, but in some of its finest moments, Pumping Iron is simply a spectacle.
In that vein, Franco Colombu, the world's top bodybuilder under 200 pounds in 1975, may not say anything of consequence in the entire movie, but he performs some feats of strength that would make even Frank Costanza proud.
At one competition, Colombu takes one of those red hot water bottles and starts inflating it as if it were a balloon. Now, those of us who are in the know as far as hot water bottles are concerned are aware that they are not balloon-like in any way, especially when it comes to attempting to inflate them. I mean, honestly, those things are thick, and not highly viscous (nerdy word alert!) So, when Colombu picks one of them up and begins to inflate it, it is shocking, to say the least. And when he blows so much air into the damn thing that it full-on explodes -- well, that's just downright impressive. Just thinking about that makes me feel like my large intestine is about to combust.
Though the hot water bottle trick is by far the most impressive thing about Colombu despite the fact that it really shows nothing about his worth as a bodybuilder, I suppose it also bears mentioning that, in another scene in the film, he lifts a small car off the ground in his hometown of Sardinia, Italy. Now, I'm no doctor, but that seems like a surefire way to get a hernia.
Sympathy for the Devil
If you are familiar with Lou Ferrigno's work from "The Incredible Hulk," it's probably pretty hard for you to grasp the idea of him being a plot device. After all, Ferrigno most likely doesn't even know what the word "device" means.
However, if Pumping Iron has a plot, it wouldn't exist without Lou Ferrigno, who is cast as Arnold's nemesis and only realistic competition for the Mr. Olympia title. Throughout the period of time leading up to the Mr. Olympia contest, we see Ferrigno training at his gym in Brooklyn under the watchful and horribly creepy guidance of his father, Matty (let's just say that Matty dropped one too many "you look like a Greek God, Louie" lines for me to feel comfortable with him). During this training, Ferrigno's only goal appears to be to defeat Schwarzenegger. With each repetition of lifting, Ferrigno is screaming his opponent's name, "Arnold! Arnold! Arnold!" in a bizarre motivational mantra. The directors are trying to set up Ferrigno as a frightening threat to Arnold's dominating run as Mr. Olympia (going into the 1975 competition, Arnold has won it five years in a row). Ferrigno is taller than Arnold, more imposing looking and, as Matty makes sure to mention, has better arms than Arnold. While Arnold looks positively huge in his own right, Ferrigno is some kind of otherworldly sasquatch. Just looking at him, you would have to think of him as a true threat to Arnold's crown.
Except, the fact is, while Ferrigno is cast as villain, he's way too dopey to successfully play the role. While 28-year-old Arnold is certainly not scoring huge points for his maturity throughout the movie, Ferrigno comes across as a gigantic overgrown child. Part of that effect is achieved because his dad essentially never leaves his side. Part of it is achieved because Ferrigno has such a horrible speech impediment that he can barely talk in coherent English.
Lastly, Ferrigno seems like a child because Arnold Schwarzenegger treats him like he's his little brother. In every scene when they're together, Arnold is making fun of Ferrigno in one way or another. In one scene before the Mr. Olympia competition, Ferrigno is lifting weights backstage in preparation and grunting like a distraught hippopotamus. Arnold hears his ridiculous grunting and says in a mock sincerity, as though interpreting Ferrigno's grunts to be in English, "What did you say, Louie?" to which Ferrigno responds sheepishly, "I'm training, Arnold." It's the classic scene of big brother tooling on little brother, and Arnold never misses an opportunity to toy with Ferrigno, who must be the reason the word "lummox" was invented.
The amazing thing about this dynamic is, while Ferrigno was meant to be the film's villain, in being such a weenie, he essentially disqualifies himself from the role, leaving only one logical person who could play that role: Arnold himself, who is supposed to be the film's hero.
In a sense, this dynamic can be summed up in one scene, the last one in the movie. After having beaten Ferrigno in the Mr. Olympia competition, Schwarzenegger is on a bus with Ferrigno and both of his parents. Schwarzenegger is in the highest of spirits, and he's once again relentlessly going after Louie, though this time in a rather subtle way. He's speaking of how he's going to come visit Brooklyn and eat with Ferrigno's family, and how Louie's mom is going to cook a grand feast for him. He's talking about what a great time they'll have, and then he takes it one notch higher, as if he's testing how far he can go:
"And then she's gonna fix me up with your sister."
There is an awkward and uncomfortable laughter here, and the writing is on the wall: Ferrigno and his parents positively hate Arnold. Though they're laughing at his jokes, you can see it in their eyes. They detest him, and really, why shouldn't they? Other than the fact that he's wildly entertaining, and has been throughout this movie, he's basically just a big bully; the kind of guy who is fun to hang around until he chooses you to single out.
Pumping Iron, on one level ridiculously funny as an exposé on the world of bodybuilding, is also an unusual morality play: though clearly not intended by the directors, the character meant to be the hero ends up being the villain, and the viewer is left with a difficult choice. Either sell your soul and align yourself with Arnold, have some fun at other people's expense and win the competition, or root for the Mike Katzes and Lou Ferrignos of the world, lose the contest, but at least have your dignity.
Forgive the unfortunate play on words, but this is one instance where I'm casting my vote with Arnold.
Copyright ©2003 instant-replays.com
